Entwined
by Fency
Summary: Sequel to Raise thy Sword. CassandraRaphael pairing in an action fic. The void has spun Raphael and Soul Edge to Greece. Unfortunately, they are in different places and a certain dread pirate has found the sword...
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Soul Calibur 2 and the series belongs to Namco.  
  
Prologue  
Raphael was bleeding badly, blood sloppily slapping the ground in splashes. He grabbed Soul Edge, chipping it in the void as he went, and the shard lodged itself in his hand. He felt the dark craving plaguing him again, like ink shrouding water in darkness. He fought the urges, mustering up the last vestiges of all his courage, all his willpower from a dying man. Casting himself into the swirling, blizzard of a void, he felt warm. He wondered-  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Cassandra bent down slowly, to pick another mushroom. Her arm ached. She checked her basket, yes, it was nearly full. She decided to pick a flower to add a flourish to her day of work. She stooped down again, gently easing an Amaranth flower out and holding it carefully. She was still very much a young adolescent at heart, only twenty-one years of age. One of the things she was scared of the most was that she would be unmarried for her life. She was actually trying to live up to her sister's name. The Holy Warrior. The One who Purged us of Soul Edge. There were many more titles for Sophitia in their village. She had gotten married, too, to a skilful blacksmith called Rothion. He had the ability to smith anything.  
Cassandra settled herself peacefully against a tree, blending into nature and holding the flower. "Let's see...she said. She pulled out a petal, muttering, "I will fall in love." She pulled out a second one, mumbling, "I won't fall in love." "I will fall in love."  
After a while, she had just plucked the last one, but hadn't said the words, when she noticed the Frenchman. Blood streaked down his face and his eyes were shut. He was lying sprawled on his front on the ground. A rapier lay abandoned at his side. Cassandra jerked momentarily, at a loss for what to do. She snapped out of her transfixed state. The Greek ran quickly to the Frenchman's side, before grasping his wrist and feeling for a pulse. She felt a very faint one, and knew if nothing was done, the man's life would ebb away. She didn't know why she felt affinity when she touched his wrist. But it wasn't the most pressing task.  
Cassandra thought it fortunate that their house was rather close to the fields, thus she ran quickly back to the house and called Sophitia. She panted out, "Sis, there's a man in the fields. I think he's dying!"  
Sophitia's eyes widened as she heard the news, but acted quickly to collect some medicine. Cassandra went to call Rothion to assist them. The trio went back swiftly to the fields. Rothion turned the Frenchman over gently, laying him on his back. Rothion scanned the body for wounds, and gasped. "Sophitia, this man has slashes and lacerations all over his torso!"  
Sophitia whispered, "Must have been in an ugly fight." The trio immediately set to work. Cassandra was better at medicines, thus she started directing her sister and brother-in-law around. They crushed medicinal plants and applied the powder to the man's wounds. After that, Rothion applied pressure to stop the bleeding, before Cassandra wound strips of cloth around the wounds. Sophitia fetched some water and dabbed some gently on Raphael's lips.  
"We'll have to take him into the house," Rothion announced.  
The Alexandra sisters nodded grimly, before Rothion lifted the man while Cassandra took the foreign weapon and brought him into the house. He placed Raphael on a bed while Sophitia took the Frenchman's pulse again. It was slightly better, now that he was not bleeding.  
"Looks like he's in a coma," commented Rothion.  
"When will he wake up?" Sophitia wondered aloud.  
"I don't know, could be a day, a week, or years," Cassandra answered.  
  
"I guess I should get the kids back into the house now," said Sophitia, with a glance at a husband, who nodded affirmatively.  
Sophitia went outside, where her children, Pyrrha and Patroklos were playing tag.  
"Children!" Sophitia cried wearily as her children laughed and ran further.  
Just then, Cassandra remembered the last petal. "I will fall in love!?" she asked herself incredulously.  
"What did you say?" Rothion asked, not really listening.  
"Er...nothing," said Cassandra sheepishly, a red flush tinting her cheeks.  
  
Cervantes, a man without soul, a man without heart. And yet, he was probably the happiest person on the globe. He lifted Soul Edge, which was crackling with vibrant blue electricity and the eye was pulsating to Cervantes' touch. "I...have it. After all these years!" the dread pirate laughed mirthlessly. He couldn't forget that day. He was continuing his search in Greece, hoping to devour a few souls along the way, when he had spotted it, in a rain-streaked forest. At first, he couldn't believe his eyes and his luck. "Must be getting senile," Cervantes thought, but walked to Soul Edge all the same. And what do you know? Soul Edge's hilt was enticing, and as Cervantes gripped it, it shaped into a beautiful killing tool, specially for Cervantes. At long last, it was reunited. But some of its strength had dissipated. Soul Edge told Cervantes in its toneless voice that he needed to bring it to five pinnacles of power in Greece, to harness its true power and to uncover the last shards, hidden beyond sight. Cervantes was only too happy to oblige. He remembered how his last attempt had been foiled by Sophitia. He knew she lived in Greece. Why not get his revenge too?  
Cervantes slashed the ground ruthlessly, leaving two deep scratch marks. "Works fine as ever," he laughed, before firing a shot from his Nirvana gunsword. The smell of discharge wafted into his dead nostrils. "I just love the smell of toasted people in the morning,"  
  
With that statement, Cervantes hung his swords over his shoulders, and marched off to rest for the night. 


	2. Awakening

**Disclaimer**: Soul series belongs to Namco...ok so don't sue me...  
  
**Jay Goose**: Thanks for your support, I'm trying to make longer chapters now. **Mousey13**: Er...yeah I'm focusing on mastering Cassandra now.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Cassandra dabbed his forehead gently with a wet towel, and examined his face again. She was gripped by a longing to touch his long, blonde hair, but somehow she restrained herself. His hair was spread over his face, but she thought that an alluring touch. She was getting slightly worried; the Frenchman hadn't woken up in two months. As she looked at Raphael again, and stood up to leave, she thought she saw him stir.  
She whirled around, and saw him muttering incoherently. She got nervous again as she stood there, staring at Raphael blankly, holding the wet towel.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

He tossed the lamp violently down the staircase before dashing up, taking the stairs five at a time. "Amy! Amy! AMY!" he shouted out all the way, each time the knot of fear tightening in his stomach. "Please oh please..."he murmured as his hand rested, hesitantly on Amy's room's doorknob. Fear swelling up in his throat, he pushed the door open, and a man turned to meet him. Raphael stiffened as he saw Amy flailing, thrashing to get free from the two men holding her, one with a dagger in hand.  
"Emmanuel de Provins!" Raphael seemed to grind the name into his teeth. The most feared assassin in the French underworld.  
"Ah yes...Monsieur Sorel...well you should know that the nobles have...shall we say...enlisted my services to deal with you, and your clan. A piteous clan, isn't it? A servant, a child, and a pathetic weakling of a man." Emmanuel bared his yellow teeth, and said, "Kill her. I've always wanted to take on a worthy opponent."  
One of the men brought up the dagger, and slit Amy's throat, just as the word "DADDY!" escaped her lips. Blood splattered the polished wooden floors, as the man dropped Amy on the floor, where the dead body crumpled in a heap.

* * *

End

* * *

"No...please...not Amy..." Raphael mumbled, sweat breaking out in torrents on his forehead. "Amy...Amy...AMY!"  
Raphael woke up shouting the last word. His head seemed to be tearing apart, only seams of brain tissue holding it together. He clutched his head, slamming his head back on the pillow, horrific memories flashing intermittently in his mind. Amy...why did you have to leave me!? he thought. I...I loved her...and now...she's...gone forever... Tears rolled down Raphael's cheeks. Grogginess overpowered his head, as his vision swam, wavering and flickering. He thought he saw a Greek lady standing in front of him, looking concerned, but he couldn't be sure. The fencer laid his head on the pillow, trying to piece together some of his composure, but the tears wouldn't stop.  
"Er...are...are you all right?" Cassandra ventured uncertainly, blushing again. She hoped his vision was blurry. She must have looked a mess!  
"I...where...where am I? May I enquire as to what your name is?" Raphael asked, a headache hitting his temples again. Being the noble who handled most of the affairs of the Sorel House, Raphael was multi-lingual. He understood most European languages. He always entertained foreign guests. He felt awkward. He hadn't shed tears for a long time. With an effort, he struggled to sit up. Cassandra almost made a movement to help him, but decided against it.  
Cassandra answered, doing better this time, "You're in Athens, Greece. I am Cassandra."  
The information hit Raphael's brain, and he processed it slowly, before uttering a disbelieving "Sorry?" His manners caught up with him, and the word "What?" was stopped at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he replaced it with "sorry?"  
Cassandra flushed a deep red again, impressed by his manners. She repeated it, this time adding, "In the Alexandra house."  
Raphael had done his research. "Alexandra? Wasn't Sophitia Alexandra the one who shattered Soul Edge the first time?"  
"You know of it?" Cassandra inquired, genuinely surprised.  
Raphael passed a hand through his hair, deciding how much to tell her. "I...I found Soul Edge before, and...it..." he broke off his sentence, the pain growing in his heart again. "I'm sorry...but...the subject is...ah...a difficult one."  
Cassandra wondered why he had not told her what had happened. Cassandra told him how she had come to find him, and asked how he had gotten there.  
"I...the void...did you find two rapiers?" Raphael suddenly shot the question at her.  
Cassandra said, "Only one," before bringing out Flambert.  
"Oh no...this was what I was afraid of, Soul Edge...is loose in the world again. I didn't shatter it after all," Raphael's last sentence was nothing more than a whisper. Raphael tried to stand, but a wound opened up again. Cassandra rushed forward, alarmed, and told him to sit.  
"Your wound might get infected if you go out now!"  
Raphael meekly sat and asked Cassandra, "Is there a Mitiphor plant nearby? It's green, but the leaves had a tint of red. The leaves have healing properties."  
Cassandra nodded. She knew where she could find one. Immediately, she darted out to the field where she picked a few leaves. Raphael received them and placed them over his opened wound. There was a paroxysm of pain which swept up his arm, but the stinging was replaced by a cool, soothing sensation on his wound.  
"I never knew that before," Cassandra voiced.  
"I studied fencing and medicines when I was young. It was all I did...no one really attended to me."  
"It must have been bad. I always had a loving family."  
Raphael's lids were getting heavy. Cassandra took the cue and turned to leave. Her hand was at the door when Raphael said, "Thank you, Cassandra. You saved my life. Call me Raphael."  
He didn't know why he trusted her with his real name. He just felt...something very much like affinity. They both hid a secret smile.

* * *

Cervantes laughed cruelly as he extended Soul Edge into some poor soul's stomach, ripping the flesh and caused blood to spurt out at irregular intervals. It was a horrific scene. Cervantes pulled the Nirvana gunsword up and rifled a shot into the man's exposed head. "Another soul for you, Edgy." he said, grinning.  
People were already scattering, screaming. It could have been described very easily as mayhem or havoc. It was total pandemonium, as women wringed their hands wildly in trepidation as they ran. Everyone's pulse had skyrocketed, adrenaline and fear permeating throughout their system. Cervantes shot a few more in the legs, before strolling casually over to pierce Soul Edge through their bodies, ignoring the pleading looks in their eyes.  
Soul Edge was palpitating like a satisfied person. The eye seemed to glow with pure, evil delight. Cervantes ran a long, slender finger across the blade, admiring his weapon. He hadn't forgotten how brilliant the power surges felt when Soul Edge was happy. He felt above everyone.  
Cervantes stabbed the sword into another person's body, feeling his soul being sucked into Soul Edge. Cervantes watched happily as the body shriveled up into a mangled mess. Pure...bliss. 


	3. Aphrodite

Disclaimer: Namco owns Soul Calibur 2.

The Final Fantasy Warrior: I love your reviews! You give such a well-rounded account of my writing and advise me to brush up on some things. You're one of the best fans anyone could ask for, thank you very much.

Jay Goose: Yeah, I guess I should add in some pandemonium to get some kicks! Thank you very much for the review!

Mousey13: Glad you like it, I will continue. Thanks for R&R-ing!

Chapter 3

Raphael turned on his side, groaning as he felt a laceration gingerly with his fingertips. Each little touch seemed to send shockwaves of pain rattling through his bones. His pain wasn't enough of a distraction to deter him from thinking about the worst that could have happened. Soul Edge was lost again. And the tearing, scorching doubt was who had gotten it. Would they understand its sheer power, and the darkness which misted Soul Edge like white on rice? It was an undeniably evil sword. It had been a terrific effort, mustering up his etiquette from long ago, hidden in the folds of his brain. As a noble, his manners had developed into a good habit which he couldn't shake. Raphael was still a proud man, and he had surfaced his good habit to converse with the lady.

He didn't know if she was a traitor. Perhaps he was in the Sorel House now, his parents and relatives sharpening swords to plunge into him. Raphael eliminated these thoughts from his mind. She seemed...Raphael couldn't adequately find words to describe it. He hadn't felt anything like that before. Was the gap in his heart to be filled? He knew nothing about Cassandra, save for superficial appearance. Appearance meant nothing. What mattered was she was beautiful from within as well. Just like...Amy. He had loved Amy. And she had been wrenched brutally by the lackeys of death. She...she did not deserve to be murdered by a low-class assassin who had hung back to deal with a demonic fighter, filled with an ever-growing incandescence of rage and grief. An inferno. She...she had been a sweet girl. He remembered the day...the day he found that he loved Amy paternally.

_Blood was dripping. There was a steady pit-pit of blood onto the cobbled streets of Rouen. How..!? How...had it come...to this..!? Raphael Sorel was still in a state of disbelief. His disheveled, unkempt hair lined his dirt-packed face. Sweat and blood formed a sickening mixture, the smell bursting into his nostrils, and he gagged. The Frenchman staggered, in an almost drunken way, without an aim. He dragged his numb leg along heavily, which still stung with pain from the rapier strike he had received from Jacques Bordeaux, a second-in-command of the Rouen law enforcers. He felt lethargic. His rapier scraped the ground at intervals. Raphael felt weak. The hunger, something he had never felt in his life, gripped his stomach and twisted it into knots. He could hear footsteps, an ominous sound of evil. It sounded like a guillotine. _

_Stumbling blindly, he almost collided into a young girl. She looked surprised, but Raphael looked fervently for a hiding place, and walked unsteadily to it. Hiding behind the stone pillar, he perked his ears up to hear for any sounds. He hoped he wasn't breathing too loudly, or he hadn't left a trail of blood behind. _

_Suddenly, a shocked realization gripped Raphael. THE GIRL! Another mistake from Raphael. Perhaps this one would surely cost him his life. _

_"Girl, have you seen a man along these roads? He has blonde hair, carrying a rapier and has a cut leg,"_

_And here, Raphael waited with bated breath, to hear the words that would decide his fate._

_"No,"_

_And Raphael rejoiced, tears of gratitude flowing gently down his dirt-cake cheeks. He knew he loved Amy then. She had saved her life._

_"Thank you, Amy. You saved my life. Call me Raphael." he didn't know what he felt then, but it may have been something called affinity. _

_And she had been killed._

Raphael's hands started shaking, a teetering tremor of anger. He blamed himself. He could have returned in time. Revenge seemed such an empty word now. Soul Edge turned out to be nothing but an evil blade which he could not even control. Keen, poignant agony shot out from his heart, puncturing his feelings. He slipped into a lachrymose visnomy. Again, Raphael wondered how he had survived, only to face the bitter reality that his foster daughter was dead. In a way, she had given her life to save him. If she had handed him over to the soldiers, no harm would have come to her. But only hate would have been on Raphael's face. Now, it was anguish. His wounds were beginning to turn into long scabs. If he went into another fight, he would be at a disadvantage. Raphael had to rest, before seeking out the wielder of Soul Edge. He hoped Xianghua had found it. He hoped Xianghua had shattered it. Unfortunately, this was a time when his hopes wouldn't come through.

Cassandra's face was hot. She felt her face, and it was uncharacteristically warm. She was blushing again! She seemed to be doing a lot of that. Raphael appeared to have a painful past, and she made a mental note not to probe. But...why? Why did she feel like this? Her heartbeat always accelerated, she began trembling slightly and she spoke...in a very different way. She spoke to the Frenchman very differently. With...respect? No, it had a certain depth, beyond respect. Her thoughts were in a whirl. Perhaps she needed something to drink, or somewhere to sit. She was confused, in a fluster. Somehow she felt embarrassed.

Cassandra took the small jug and started pouring the water inside. But thoughts of Raphael's handsome face and sturdy build kept sneaking into her mind. Cassandra didn't know it, but a dreamy, faraway look came into her eyes. Because of this, she failed to notice how the jug was slipping...slipping...

"Ahh!" she gave a short shriek of surprise before snatching the jug up, millimeters from hitting the ground. Whew, she thought. If Sophitia had heard the jug broken...

She smiled again to herself. She had to be careful. Cassandra set her cup upon the table and settled herself in an ornately carved wooden chair. Was this love? The warm feeling bubbling up within her heart...how she had felt something twanging her heartstrings upon first sight...the flower...were this all clues?

"Thank you, Aphrodite." she whispered, clasping her hands in a soft whisper. She needed to find out if he shared the same feelings for her. Had he? She didn't know how to read foreigners' expressions. She didn't care about age. If the God of Love had decided it, then it had to be their destiny.

She had that dreamy look on her face again.

P. S Cervantes is not in this chapter because I wanted to focus on Raphael and Cassandra's developing feelings. Never fear, he will return soon.


	4. Realization

Lol, I got inspiration for this from listening to too much Heart of Sword.

Chapter 4

Cervantes smelt the fear as he sent his victims scattering. He had began the massacre early in the morning, walking into an inn, out in the outskirts of Greece as calm as you would like. He ordered rum, and when he had finished, a sword was sticking in the bartender's throat. Pulling it out and examining his sword carefully, Cervantes then continued slowly. People were screaming in pure panic, climbing over one another to escape. Cervantes took his time, firing round after round from his fused Nirvana gunsword/Soul Edge. He enjoyed being reunited with his evil blades, they brought him power he had never really shook off. He liked to shoot people in their knees, then walk even closer and blast off an elbow or too. Soul Edge would salivate at that, and start slobbering for the souls. The souls were a sweet aftertaste, a reward for good killing. He likened it to rum. Speaking of rum...Cervantes grabbed a bottle conveniently and took a long draught. The cold alcohol splashed down his throat, but his chapped lips remained the same. Perhaps...if he got nearer to Greece souls would be more available.

Cervantes marched out the open door, which was swinging on its hinges, as if it were petrified of him too.

_Perhaps...what would have happened if Phillip de Leon had survived? Phillip de Leon had been a noble sailor. He died at sea. And such was the impact of the loss, that led Cervantes de Leon astray and into a life of piracy. _

_He remembered the day clearly. Phillip de Leon had spent his last day with his son, teaching him how to tie a special knot called Alpine Butterfly to dock ships. When he had finished, he turned to his admiring son. _

_"Papa, do you really have to go?" the young boy asked, slightly upset at his father's decision._

_"Well, Cervantes, the country has requested me. There is no greater honour than helping them defend our country. When you grow up, you must follow in my footsteps, and be a noble sailor. Understand?"_

_"Yes, Papa," Cervantes' cheerful tone was slightly forced. He was worried for his father. He had heard of the vicious enemies, riding towards Spain by ship. His father was a skilled sailor, had a fine ship called Adoncia, named after Cervantes' mother. She had died while giving birth to Cervantes, and yet Phillip de Leon had never bothered about that. _

_"I'm afraid I have to go, son. Go back to the inn, and wait for me."_

_"Sure thing, Papa."_

_Instead, Cervantes heard news of his father's death. _

Cervantes was, of course, a bloodthirsty murderous pirate before he was dead. He was known as a dread pirate, and all that encountered him faced inevitable death. Cervantes was a bloody legend, and for a long while, no one dared set sail. Everything seemed much better when he died, and everyone was riding out to sea again. But suddenly a dead body washed up on shore, stabbed, withered and shriveled. Examining the wounds, they discovered it was Cervantes. The dead pirate, it appeared, was alive again, this time an undead. The horror stories came next.

The footsteps dropped heavily on the grass, making deep imprints as Cervantes linked his lips to the bottle, enjoying the alcohol. His swords clicked against each other enticingly, almost excitably. He could already sense the fresh taste of blood.

"Hm...it appears there is some blood on my chin." Cervantes said ponderously. Soul Edge growled for blood, but Cervantes extended a tongue to lick it off. "You've had enough to eat today," he admonished Soul Edge playfully. The eye blinked.

Cervantes and Soul Edge were a deadly pairing. They were a lethal combination of evil, blood and hate. Cervantes detested working for anyone, he had seen what it had done to his father. It was a terrible fate. His father...had fought for the king, and had lost his life. He should have been better protected! Soul Edge was merely seeking an owner who was shrouded in evil, evil enough to find all four shards. And then...he would come into his own and the world would be destroyed.

Okay, hit me. I know I didn't update for a long time, sorry, apologies. I was very busy, tests and all that. I had some problems uploading too. Sorry!


	5. Perfection

Chapter 5

Two months since Raphael appeared...

He had barely recovered from his injuries.

Cassandra was walking with Raphael. She had agreed to give him a tour of the Greek village. She said it was for letting him understand their culture better. But secretly, Cassandra was just looking for an excuse to get to know him better. Raphael had been agonizing over whether to make the first move, but when Cassandra opened this opportunity, he was surprised. It came as a help to him, as Raphael wasn't sure if he could muster up his courage to ask her out. But as he was totally unfamiliar with the place, he wouldn't know where to take her. Cassandra, on the other hand, thought Raphael didn't understand her intentions. Anxious to develop a relationship, but unwilling to hasten herself, she gathered up her inner strength to invite him on a tour.

"Here is our bakery..." said Cassandra, her voice quavering just slightly. She stole glances at Raphael at every chance, afraid he would spot her. Raphael was looking at her from the corner of his eyes intermittently, trying to disguise the fact he was looking at her. "A pleasant place." the Frenchman said in fluent Greek. Cassandra's French was picking up, but they focused on Greek as the main conversing language. "The décor is attractive." he said, trying to force some conversation. His tongue seemed like it kept sticking to the roof of his mouth. The fencer attempted vainly to moisten his lips, but they remained dry. _God, she's beautiful..._he thought, stealing another look. An attractive blue ribbon tied up the hair at the back of her hair nicely, emphasizing the glory of the hair hanging down the back. Her blonde hair glistened in the sunlight, the random strands hanging down the sides of her face added to her natural beauty. Her face was fair, and free of any blemishes. Raphael liked her green eyes the most though. He thought they were exquisitely unique. Raphael's face started to grow hot.

"My sister did it up," Cassandra answered, immediately angry at herself for speaking so abruptly. "She's...um...quite good at decorating places..."her voice trailed off as words slowed to a trickle.

She noticed, not for the first time, Raphael was stunningly good-looking.

Cassandra brought Raphael around the village as Raphael tried to memorize the locations of recreational outlets and restaurants. _They might come in handy next time..._he thought.

Cassandra invited Raphael to lunch at an inn, where the food was moderately priced. "I think I'll have horta (boiled greens)," Raphael announced to the underpaid waiter.

"May I have an omehletah (omelet)?" Cassandra asked pleasantly. The waiter nodded, and walked towards the kitchens.

Suddenly, Raphael produced an Anemone flower. "Here, please accept this gift," he said, squirming just slightly.

Cassandra was touched. "Thank you," she whispered while taking the flower gently. "Where did you find it?"

"I erm, spent six days looking for something like this. I heard the legend behind it..."Raphael's voice trailed off, and he looked embarrassed. Cassandra knew it only too well.  
_The name of anemone plant is connected with the ancient myth, telling the famous love story between Adonis and Aphrodite. This specific myth inspired great poets like Ovidius or, much later, Shakespeare, to compose hymns dedicated to love, but we will only quote the part related to the flower. According to this myth, when Adonis lived with Aphrodite, the two lovers would go hunting in the woods. As Adonis chased game through the forest, the goddess would follow closely behind, in her swan-driven chariot, dressed as a huntress. Aphrodite's ex-lover, the god of war Ares, grew jealous of her affair with the mortal. While his rival was hunting alone, Ares disguised himself as a boar and attacked Adonis causing him lethal injuries.Adonis used his spear to strike back to Ares, but was soon gored to death by the boar's great tusks. Aphrodite hurried to Adonis in her chariot, but his soul had already descended into the Underworld. In despair, she sprinkled nectar on Adonis' wounds. As Aphrodite bore her lover's body out of the woods, crimson anemones sprung up where each drop of blood and nectar fell onto the earth. It is said that that the wind which blows the blossoms open, will soon afterwards blow the petals away; so it is called the Anemone, or Wind Flower, for that which brings forth its life, ends it. _

When the meal had ended, Cassandra felt empty. She wanted so badly to extend the stroll, but she was at a loss at where to go.

"Cassandra, do you know how to ride a horse?" the question appeared out of Raphael's lips, stunning her slightly.

"Um...no," she replied. _He'll probably be disappointed I can't ride with him!_

"If you'd like it, I could teach you," Raphael offered, a hint of desperation in his tones. He wanted to extend the day so badly.

Cassandra blushed slightly. "Please do!" she said.

"This is a saddle. It's what you to sit upon. And this thing here, it's called a stirrup, to support your foot when you're riding. Why don't you try mounting first? It's an essential part of horse-riding," Raphael coached patiently.

Cassandra hesitated, and then swung her leg over the horse; she almost lost her balance, but caught herself. Raphael had stirred, his hands half-raised, but she had managed to stumble back onto her feet. "Argh," Cassandra said in playful frustration. Raphael smiled and told her to try again.

Cassandra this time put her foot in the stirrup, and hauled herself onto the horse's back. She was positioned on the saddle, and Raphael began coaxing the horse to move forward slightly. Cassandra held on to the reins tightly, her fists clenched.

Raphael couldn't help but stare at her beautiful face, glistening with determination. The horse's clip-clopping of the hooves was rhythmic, clattering in a pattern. Raphael attuned his senses to the beauty of it, his love riding upon a beauty of a horse.

Just then, the horse just went a little faster, and Cassandra started. The horse was going faster, with little control exerted by its rider. "Ahh!" she gave a slight yelp of surprise. Raphael watched in horror as she slipped off the saddle and fell. In an almost lightning quick motion, Raphael's hands shot out, in the same position they had been earlier on, and he squared them perfectly to catch Cassandra gently as she fell. One hand was scooped around her neck, and the other was supporting her waist. Her feet were just brushing the ground. Raphael and Cassandra could both feel the tension wrapped in coils of spring, as they waited, both in an exalted moment of perfection. It was an awkward position, but both looked tenderly into the other's eyes. Beads of perspiration formed at Cassandra's cheeks. Raphael brushed her hair to the side and tucked it under an ear. She looked absolutely wondrous.

Raphael leaned in, and Cassandra closed her eyes in anticipation. She waited...

* * *

Cliffy! Don't kill me!


	6. No!

Apologies for being a turtle haha I guess I gotta give you guys some action to be happy

* * *

Chapter 6

Cassandra closed her eyes in eager anticipation. She could feel his breath upon hers, and her mouth tingled with a fierce electricity. _How will it feel like? My first kiss..._her thoughts were a whirl of mixed feelings. Excited, exalted, happy, nervous combined.

Raphael stared into her green eyes which were like a pair of beautiful mirrors. Her lips looked satin-soft. He could feel his heart pounding. Her brilliant hair fell back, somehow unhindered by the ribbons, which had mysteriously loosened. Raphael was so close to her face he could see her entire, beautiful face. It was devoid of pimples or any other blemishes. _She's perfect..._Raphael thought to himself. His fingers felt her waist gently, and he could sense her all tensed up. He parted his lips and was an inch away from making contact...

"WATCH OUT!" suddenly a shout erupted from somewhere behind them. Raphael glanced up, annoyed. He then hurriedly pulled Cassandra to the ground as a rampant horse trampled past. Cassandra was growing sheepish. Surely he wasn't going to advance so quickly!

Raphael was embarrassed, for once in his life; he was at a loss at what to do. He was at a distance from the young Greek. Cassandra opened her eyes and got to her feet. She was slightly disappointed having being interrupted, but a part of her was thankful. She wasn't sure she was ready. Perhaps she needed some consultation with her sister. After, Sophitia was much more experienced than her in the affairs of the heart. Raphael thanked her and apologized, and they rode a horse home. Cassandra enjoyed the ride. She was in close proximity with her crush, and her arms were wrapped around his waist. Luckily he wasn't facing her, or her senses would have exploded. They were both too embarrassed to even suggest another attempt.

The steady clip-clop of the horse's hooves was soothing to both of them. They made little conversation throughout the ride, preferring instead to bath in the peaceful silence between them. Suddenly, Raphael jerked the reins back.  
"What is it?" Cassandra asked.

Raphael tersely replied, "Bandits." It sounded like he was trying to swallow a sour pip. After pausing, he said to her in an undertone, "Cassandra, perhaps it would be better if you took the horse and ran..."

"No, I can't leave you here alone," Cassandra's voice rang with determination. Her hands went down to the shield and shortsword hanging at her waist. Raphael drew his rapier venomously, the _Shing! _of his blade reverberating across the dirt road. Bandits were already fanning out in all directions, attempting to catch them in a pincer movement. Raphael saw, and understood. He despised them. All were looking at their money pouches greedily, and at Cassandra evilly. It was the latter that infuriated Raphael more. "Hold on tight," he told Cassandra through gritted teeth. Her arms tightened, as Raphael spurred the horse into five bandits. They promptly fell away and regrouped, like a flock of birds. Raphael turned and charged at them. They fell away again, but this time Raphael's rapier flicked out, and severed a bandit's head. There was a muffled scream, and the bandits looked at Raphael angrily.

One of them let out an obscenity, and ran forwards. Raphael attempted to steer the horse away, but a heavy club blow struck the horse's front leg, and it buckled. Raphael leapt down, clutching Cassandra tightly. His rapier was in front of him, his arm stiff as a pole. Cassandra studied her opponents.

The leader appeared to be the scar-faced one with the club who had attacked the horse. Raphael steadied himself in an offensive stance, and went for him. Raphael thrust forward with a powerful strike, but the leader of the bandits was surprisingly agile. He dodged left and slammed the butt of his club onto Raphael's shoulder. The force of the blow caused Raphael to stumble, but he recovered immediately, parrying a blow with Flambert. The rapier pushed against the club, and the club forced back. Raphael ducked as the wild swing nearly decapitated him. The leader leapt back, as Raphael lashed forward with a roundhouse kick. His boot glanced Scar's face, causing only a minor scrape. The huge bandit landed a heavy club blow onto the ground, and while he took time to adjust, Raphael slashed with Flambert upwards. The bandit leader jerked back, blood sliding down, and smashed the club into Raphael's face. Raphael feared he would black out, and Cassandra would be captured, and only that propelled him to go on in his weakened state. Dashing forwards, Raphael started pushing his rapier forcefully forward, while the bandit head tried to block. A few strong thrusts rendered his wooden club cracked, and when Raphael leapt up to deliver a crushing kick onto it, the club shattered. But the leader tried an unexpected move, grabbing Raphael and tripping him. As Flambert circled in the air, Raphael saw the exact movement, and using his foot to tremendous effect, pushed it straight into the bandit's throat. The French fencer then got to his feet and tugged the sword out. It was slick with fresh blood. "It's too late to resist..." Raphael said quietly to the dead man.

Cassandra was dealing with five others. She was backing away. As one advanced, she kicked out into his stomach and clashed his head with the shield. The bandit fell and groaned, his hoplite sword clattering away. As another one foolishly charged forward, Cassandra picked up the sword and threw it dead-center into his eye. Blood surged down his eye. There was a scream of agony as he tumbled backwards, clutching his eye. Raphael impaled him on his rapier. The remaining three bandits hesitated, and continued running forward. Raphael repaid one of them with a swift death, while Cassandra took down one with a sword to the head. However, he managed to slash her shoulder before dying. Cassandra crumpled in a dark pool of crimson. The last one decided to run, but Raphael spotted him. With a dread barrel, Raphael slammed his rapier forward, and the last bandit collapsed, dead.

The Frenchman felt a foreboding sense of déjà vu. _No! It...it...can't happen...again. _Raphael picked up Cassandra, and started running down the path at full sprint. He ignored the rain starting to pelt down on the dark dreary road to home.

"Don't die!" he screamed.


	7. Evil Abound

Did I just die for 50 years? I promise more updates after next week. Exams.

Chapter 7

"Open up!" Raphael screamed as he landed a foot on the door. He could feel the blood trickling onto his hands and arms, life leaving the woman he loved. Warm, wet blood. He saw crimson everywhere. Cassandra choked, and spurted out blood from her mouth. Sophitia opened the door and nearly died of shock. She was the only one at home for the children had gone to school while Rothion was smithing weapons.

Raphael charged through, his head whipping around to find a bed. He saw one, and he gently but quickly laid Cassandra on it. His hands were smeared-no, not smeared, drenched-with blood.

"Raph-"Sophitia had scarcely said one syllable before the Frenchman had dashed out, the door swinging on its hinges and banging wildly. Raphael sprinted down into the fields, and searched fervently. Finding the plant, he tore it out from the roots and raced back to the house, shouting, "Hot water! Hot water!"

Sophitia had barely managed to fill up a wooden basin before it was snatched out of her hands. She heard vaguely an "Ow!" from Raphael as splashes of hot water nicked him. Raphael gently laid the basin on the floor, then tore the leaves up and let it soak. After a few seconds, he grabbed the leaves and crushed them into smaller pieces. Raphael hesitated, before sliding Cassandra's garment down, just exposing her shoulder wound. Raphael grabbed the leaves and placed them in a circle around Cassandra's bloody wound. His superb, in-depth knowledge of medicine told him these plants would cool down the wound, preventing swelling, and also rapidly heal the wound.

"Bandage," Raphael snapped, and suddenly a roll of bandages was in his hand. Carefully, gingerly, he wrapped them slowly around the wound. He would remove the healing leaves the next day. Raphael trailed a finger over his eyebrow, and suddenly, like magic, sweat slicked his finger. He looked into Cassandra's face, willing her to heal, to live. He stared for a long time before Sophitia cleared her throat and said, "I don't expect you're going to tell me what happened?"

"Bandits," said Raphael shortly, not reverting his gaze from Cassandra. He seemed too entranced in staring at her face. There was a glazed look about him, as if it had been his fault. Raphael mused silently…perhaps it had been.

Thirty kilometers away, a storm was raging violently. Two young men, were struggling to maintain their balance. "Argh! Damn this storm!" the older one shouted, a pair of nunchakus flailing wildly from his hands. The older one, with a pole across his chest, adjusted his feet with rapid vicissitudes of movement. "I knew we should have bought a better boat…I thought a great pirate like Maxi would be able to handle a situation like this…" he sighed.

The one named Maxi growled and held on to a side of the boat. He desperately tried to steer the rudder, but it was like attempting to shove a full ship. The boat swerved dangerously-  
"Careful, Maxi!" a shout rang out.

"I know what I'm doing, Kilik!-WOAH!" The boat started rocking vigorously, like a snake trapped in a livewire. With one almighty groan of splintering wood and splashing water, the boat slowly flipped over. Maxi and Kilik were dumped unceremoniously into the roaring waves which crashed over their heads. Intermittent raindrops were hardly felt as cold wrapped themselves around the two. Maxi grabbed for the overturned boat and pulled his head out of the water. Kilik was already treading water.

"Yeah Maxi, you had no troubles at all…you absolutely knew what you were doing!" Kilik yelled over the tumultuous cheering of the waves, sarcasm resonating in each syllable. Maxi doused his head in the ice-cold water, preferring not to answer.

He spat a profanity and said, "I'm bleeding. Must have been a splinter of wood which scratched…uh…KILIK! Get onto the boat quick!" Kilik was astonished and leapt quickly onto the overturned boat, almost losing his balance. Maxi vaulted up and pointed in the distance. A shark's fin could clearly be seen, lit up along the horizon. And it was approaching...its silhouette carrying a definite air of menace and intent.

"Shark's fin soup for dinner!" yelled Maxi happily as he leapt into the water, nunchakus whirring like a pair of well-oiled synchronized machines. The shark gaped and lunged, and Maxi met its mouth with a bitter blow to the jaw. The shark shook in the water and lunged under water…circling Maxi. Kilik stretched out Kali-Yuga and sent a thrusting strike into the shark's open mouth. Maxi then grabbed the shark by its head and held it above water. His nunchakus were everywhere, beating and hurting; the shark twitched once and fell limp in Maxi's hands. Bright red blood spread over his hands and dissolved under the bite of the waves.

They swam to shore, a rowdy pair of young men, carrying the shark. Maxi wondered if they would ever find the guy who had previously encountered Soul Edge. His name was Raphael Sorel, right?

Cervantes was a blazing inferno of power, with flames licking out at objects standing in his way. His red eyes glowed with pure malevolence. He mouthed a word. "Soon…soon…"


End file.
